From The Ashes We Blossom
by feather2009
Summary: What if Edward left someone behind to watch Bella in New Moon? And what if this person was the catalyst for his departure? Could something blossom from the ashes? A realistic Bella/Jasper fic. Reviews are welcome! Be honest!
1. Bon Voyage

DISCLAIMER: TWILIGHT IS NOT MINE, AND NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.

What would have happened if Edward left someone behind in New Moon to watch Bella? And what if that person was the catalyst for his departure? A realistic Jasper & Bella fic.

Edward's P.O.V..

I quite literally felt like I was dying, each breath was like a twist of a dagger in my long dormant heart. I had left Bella in the forest, after convincing her the love we had shared was fleeting, and that it had ceased to exist for me at all. It was a lie of course, but she completely and utterly believed it, my beloved began to think herself unlovable, and I just…walked away. I walked away because it was the best possible scenario for her, she could learn to be happy again, and be human, truly human. I left her behind so I could provide her with a beginning. A future filled with laughing children, and a grey haired man she loved by her side. I was giving her what I was incapable of giving her myself. Logically, I understood why I was doing this, but emotionally every ice-cold atom of my being was screaming and shouting for me to run back there, scoop her into my arms, and make her realize everything I had just told her was the blackest of lies. But, like always, my rationale won out and I turned my back on the shattered human that was still the center of my very existence, the only thing that could ever claim my heart as her own.

Jasper's P.O.V.

The world seemed upside down. My coven, no… my _family_ had left me. Edward, my closest friend and brother, Esme, the mother I had always wanted, and Alice_, my_ Alice....gone. I was sitting in the room Alice and I had once shared, recollecting the moment I destroyed my life forever.

_It was Bella's eighteenth birthday, and we all were crowded around her, our faces expectant, and I could feel the anticipation and excitement in the air while we awaited Bella's reactions to our gifts. Then, my memory became tinged in red, and I was lusting after Bella's blood. A simple paper cut was all it took for me to lose control, I lunged at her, the perfume of her blood singing my senses, and propelling me forward. I was so close to her throat, and it was in that spilt second I collided into Edward. He was restraining me, desperately trying to keep Bella safe from the monster that was attacking her, which I realized was me. The sheer shock the realization ignited in me might have been enough to stop me, but at that moment her scent crashed over me again in a more concentrated form. She had gone soaring through the air when Edward pushed her way from me, and consequently landed in the pink china Alice had chosen for this occasion. The delicate glass shattered, and embedded itself in Bella's skin, causing copious amounts of blood to seep out from the newly inflicted wounds covering her arms. It was too much for me, my body was completely governed by my senses at this point, and I began to snap ravenously, dangerously close to Edward's face, which was contorted into a mask of rage and concentration. Then as quickly as it had started it was over. Suddenly I was outside, far away enough from the intoxicating scent of Bella's blood that it lost its vice like grip on me. The reality of the last few moments hit me like a brick wall, and without a backward glance, I ran, frantically trying to escape the shame that engulfed me……………….._

_Hours later, I heard a light cough behind me, and I saw Edward's outline, silhouetted by the setting sun. I tentatively tasted the atmosphere around him, and what I found there shocked me. He wasn't radiating anger or even disapproval, he was silently begging me for help; his aurora tasted pleading. I couldn't understand where this was coming form, and before I had enough time to open my mouth, he answered my thoughts. "Jasper." He whispered, "I need you to promise me something." _

_I managed to gasp "I'm so very sorry, anything you need." _

_He took a shaky breath before continuing, and I felt his atmosphere turn from pleading to agonized. He shut his eyes and murmured, "Jasper, we can't stay here. What we're doing to Bella…We're all poisoning her. She could have had a life before me, a normal albeit accident prone life." He chuckled darkly. _

"_We have to leave her, all of us. She needs to sever her ties with the Cullens, I know it will be difficult, but eventually she'll move on. Find a life of her own, a career. He paused. "A hu--husband, children, grandchildren!" He clutched his head, his eyes flying open. _

"_Don't you see, we must! She needs this opportunity, we've ruined her, no, I've ruined her. My selfishness got the best of me…and I need to make this right." A tearless sob wracked his frame. "I love her, Jasper. That's why I'm leaving. But I need you to promise me something, I need you to stay here in Forks."_

_I doubled over, the sheer agony he was feeling completely overpowering me. "Alone?" I coughed out._

_His eyes were flat and cold, his atmosphere business like. "I need to be positive she is safe, even with the removal of one of her biggest problems, others are still out there." _

_His words picked up in speed, and even as a vampire, I needed to strain to hear them. _

"_How could I leave Bella when Victoria, the Volturi, and that pack of mongrels, hell, even herself still pose a threat to her. I wouldn't be able to Jasper. I need you to watch out for her for me…It wont be permanent obviously, just for the first year, or so."_

_My eyes widened, and I thought "Alice."_

_He answered me swiftly, "She is one hundred percent behind this. We all still trust you Jasper, we know that what happened to you here tonight was a one in a million chance, you're always so careful. She loves you, loves you enough to wait."_

_This seriously threw me for a loop, I had already made the decision to leave town for a while, clear my head, and get my priorities in order. But I always had envisioned doing this with Alice by side, coaxing me along, and just…loving me despite of my shortcomings. But this was different. I looked up at Edward, and as I thought of what happened, shame burned through my body like a white hot flame, and I nodded woodenly. I had to do whatever I could to make this up to him, to my family. _

_"Thank you." His voice with dripping with gratitude. And then he walked away, taking the rest of the Cullens with him, leaving me behind to watch after Bella, or whatever shadow remained of her after their abrupt departure. _


	2. Parasitic Pondering

No copyright infringement is intended; I am simply toying with the universe Ms. Meyer created.

Bella: 11:35 PM

Tonight was the night of all the firsts I had been dreading. The first night I would slip into unconsciousness without a pair of ice-cold arms encircling my waist, all the while ensnaring my heart. The first night the velvet chords of my lullaby would not hang thickly in the air, assuring me with each note that this miraculous creature somehow loved _me. _The first night I would not submerge myself in his eyes; molten gold, glowing, brimming with adoration. The first night each breath tore my chest into shreds, the first night I actually wished my rhythmic breaths would stop. The first night I spent without him…without _Edward._

That night was when the nightmares started.

Jasper 12:00 AM

I felt utterly useless; it had been exactly 6 hours 43 minutes and 57 seconds since I had collapsed into a tearless, sobbing heap on the finely varnished wood flooring. Due to my peculiar gift, my own feelings were infinitely stronger than most vampires; a coping mechanism of sorts. I suppose it was so I could isolate my own feelings despite the constant barrage of emotions that were being projected at me. Normally I was thankful for this adaptation, but today it only served to make my suffering exponentially worse.

_ No! No! No!_

I would not allow myself to wallow; I had been assigned a task. Invigorated by an overwhelming need to make amends with Edward and relying heavily on my strictly regimented military background, I was able to pry myself off the floor and vault through the open window.

I made my way through the lush forests at a record pace, the plethora of green hues highlighting the Forks landscape swirled by my body like some sort of mossy kaleidoscope. The presence of my own personal demons seemed to lessen with every step, the knowledge I was somehow aiding my family acting like a balm on my newly inflicted wounds. After a few minutes I was finally standing on the edge of my intended target, the Swan residence, and prepared myself to taste the surrounding atmosphere. Strangely, I felt nothing, a soothing numbness that permeated my pores; a tension I didn't know I was maintaining instantly dissolved from the muscles within my shoulders and lower back.

I skillfully traversed the branches of the quaint Oak that ran parallel to Bella's bedroom, a perch that had once supported Edward during his ritual nocturnal inspections. The memory of Edward ripped through my being like a thousand searing knives, and I was unable to contain the depression that was released into the air. My heartache unfurled itself until Bella's anesthetic slumber was disturbed, and she began to murmur unintelligible phrases too distorted for even my acute hearing to unscramble. I hastily sent out a wave of calmness, rippling through the air and once again immersing Bella in a dreamless sleep.

From my post, I could clearly make out her familiar, petite frame which was swathed in a comforter, creating a downy cocoon. I envied her. I envied her escape from the pain, the nagging, incessant pain that plagued every one of my empty breaths. Without my Alice's spritely laugh or causal touch I was worth nothing. Shit, I even missed Rosalie's glacial stares and Edward's broody demeanor. Apparently, my sadistic musings were enough to dissolve Bella's tenuous hold on her emotions, because she began to call out Edward's name and flail her arms and legs about, as if looking for the comfort of his cold form. Her own depression began to mingle with my own, and the result was fucking devastating. It felt as though a chasm had been carved from my chest, and my granite body seemed to crack under the immense pressure of her pain. My mouth was coated with the taste of hysteria, and the bitter, metallic tang submerged my consciousness into a state of shock. Her tortured screams cut though the still of the night, simultaneously awakening Charlie and engulfing me in an abyss of guilt and distress.

Her pain was akin to my own; the loss of our beloved threatened to destroy our very existences. The dark, smoky waves of our heartache were drawn together like magnets and fed off of the emotions radiating from one another. Summoning what little strength I had left, I stumbled to my feet and made towards what was once my home. I had failed. I had failed Edward. My mere presence acted as a catalyst for her pain, not numbing it like he had hoped. Instead of initiating the healing process I was single handedly destroying it.

When I walked through the wide French doors of the Cullen residence, the tinkling of fine china met my ears with each step I took. The evidence of my transgressions was bathed in moonlight, drenching the mementoes in an ethereal, silver light. It would have been beautiful if each glinting piece of glass had not reminded me I was alone. A deep sigh I barely recognized as my own left my slightly parted lips. Apparently, the sight before me was even too fucking ironic for my subconscious. I trudged me way to the room I had once shared with Alice, and was met at the doorway by an errant breeze tainted with the faint smell of chamomile and baby's breath.

_Alice._

Her faint scent sent me reeling, flashes of her brilliant smile and soft, inky tresses assaulted me, and soon her bubbling laughs and breathy moans ricocheted off the pale blue walls and into the air around me. Desperate for some relief, I wrenched the windows open, effectively sterilizing the room from her intoxicating scent. Immediately the gravity of what I had just done hit me; I had erased what little left of my Alice the room contained despite her absence. It was at that moment my sobs began anew, the strenuous events of the day finally taking a toll on my body. I didn't feel like granite anymore, I felt prone and abandoned. My mind could scarcely conjure a torture more painful than a year completely void of any interaction from my love and my adopted family.

And so commenced the beginning of the night I had been dreading; the first night I spent alone since Alice had saturated every facet of my life with a heady combination of chamomile and baby's breath, the delicate fragrance of happiness and limitless love. The first night I wouldn't find solace in her petite frame; her butterscotch eyes dilating with each decisive thrust of my hips.

All I had to console me was a memory; her blue and white floral dressed whirling around her lithe frame as she bounded to meet me at the door of O'Donnell's Diner, and her bubble gum lips forming the words that tormented me through the night….

"You kept me waiting a long time, you know."


	3. Mississippi, Remembered

A/N: Look I know, a new character. WahWah. But hold one second, haven't you wondered about the doctor that changed Alice? In my version, he is far from dead. This is just a quick glimpse into his mind; his creation is pivotal to the ability to get Jasper and Bella into a relationship without a giant, gaping plot hole. This will be his only chapter, be still your hearts. There will be more A/N at the end, and I'll upload one of the usual Bella/Jasper chapters later!

Dr. Damien O'Donnell's P.O.V.

Two hundred years is a long time to not die; I can't say I've been living all this time. I've been a lot of things in two centuries, a son, a brother, a husband, a doctor, and most recently, a father, I guess.

I was turned on the night of my twenty-fourth birthday; that was over two centuries ago. After my "new-born" phase, an urge emerged- one unable to be ignored- I needed to make amends with humanity. So, I worked to earn my first degree at seventy. I traveled around the shadier parts of the country, working as a psychiatrist at countless mental hospitals. They were abominations then, a pound for unruly family members, a way to eradicate burdens. I cannot begin to tell you how many of the men and women there were simply lost; not insane or a threat to society. The machines were beyond my worst imagination. Chairs with enough electricity to start a car, among other forms of torture. It made me wonder who the true monsters were.

My gift is unique; I am able to see the pasts of all who touch me, much more than a glimpse, more of a…..detailed account. With this unique adaptation, I would walk into institutions with an agenda; find the ones who are meant to be free and get them the fuck out of there.

That's how I met _her. _I was in Mississippi then, in some little hut down near the bayou. I was at the desk when a woman arrived; she had long curly black hair that reached to the middle of her back, and was wearing an emerald green cocktail dress. She smelled of brandy and peppermint, the perfume of alcoholics. She stumbled a little and made her way to the front desk. "Hello, there. My name is Amelia Brandon, and I have a particular, peculiar problem. Is there a man in charge around here?...There is? Splendid."

Doctor Stephens made his way over, the sly, smarmy man who never received his mother's love and had the smallest fucking conscience this side of Greenland, as I said, my gift was acute. He ushered Ms. Brandy- Ms. Brandon into his futilely sound proof office, I could still hear every word.

"So Amelia, what is the ailment at hand?" his nasally voice inquired.

I could hear her fiddling with her wedding rings, the unsteady grinding noise like an orchestra behind her lilting voice. "It is my first-born. She is very odd, to be frank doctor, she may be….afflicted. She knows of things before they happen; a precognition of sorts. The pastor of our parish fears the well, worst. Her moods are extremely volatile! She paused here, the _grind-grind_ picking up in speed; she was lying. "Uhm, well you see Doctor. I simply cannot have her in my house poisoning Cynthia, my other child. The matter is beyond me. She is cancer to my family, all the neighbors talk…..It is simply insufferable. The devil may be within her."

I could practically see his smile unfurling, slow and serpentine. "Well, Ms. Brandon, you have fared well- better than most others- but you see, you simply lack the…tools. I'm sure your daughter, Mary-Alice, will be in good, yet firm, hands here. If you just sign the paperwork, I can make this bad ol' dream disappear." His plan was dastardly and air-tight. Slip the tiny nuisance in the wee hours of the morning, and his on-the-pay-roll-coroner will simply say she died in her sleep, poor, poor, child.

And so it was done, I waited behind the large maple as the Model T rolled in; a wisp of a girl was torn from the backseat, her face puffy from tears, but her mouth set in a tight line. This one was strong. Her mother drunkenly zigzagged her into the back entrance and with a quick pat to the head and a non-committal "Get well, Mary-dear." She was off, and she never looked back.

I met Ms. Mary-Alice Brandon at the door, and never in all of my years had I seen such beauty. She was Aphrodite incarnate. She obviously favored her mother's looks; her hair was soft and the color of raven-feathers, slowly twisting down to the small of her back. But it was her eyes that captivated me; they were unique, unlike another's. They had the quality of Liz Taylor's but I wouldn't be haunted by those similar eyes until much later. They were amethyst in hue, and sparkling. Her face was splattered with freckles, and I noticed her fingernails were varnished; very messily varnished, but an effort was made all the same.

She stuck out her tiny hand and met my eyes determinedly, "I know what you're thinking. No, I'm not crazy. No, I don't need meds….and I'm sure you're wondering who I am. Her back straightened and she plastered a well-practiced graceful smile on her heart shaped face and chimed, "Mary Alice Brandon." I grasped her hand with equal parts trepidation and curiosity, the normal emotional cocktail before I delved into the back-story of my patients. Before the barrage, I answered "Pleased to meet you Mary, my name is Damien O'Donnell of the Minnesota O'Donnell's, whom I'm sure you've never heard of." Her bubble-gum mouth lifted up on one side, she found me amusing. I found her to be perfect.

The flashes began then, a tiny girl, no more than five, asking what happened to Matilda Jeffery, and if perhaps she could keep Ms. Jeffery's kittens since she had no more use for them. Her father, a normally tender man with azure eyes and pasty white skin (he had always reminded her of fine blue and white china or floral patterns) looked at her in confusion. "Mary, Darling, Ms. Jeffery's is fine. And besides, you know your mother has terrible allergies." Later that night, while the family ate their pork chops, Luanne St. Clair burst through the door, gasping for breath and uttering "Jim! Jim! Ms. Jeffery's was in a terrible accident! Her car was propelled into that big tree on Magnolia Road and she perished Jim, she perished! What will happen to her dear cats?"

Mrs. Brandon and Mrs. St. Clair would never know that his face lost all pallor due to his daughter's premonition; this was their little, well, giant, secret. And so, these occurrences came and went, and Alice grew into a dazzling young lady of ten, when she whispered into her Daddy's ear, "Mama's having another baby!" Cynthia was born then, a jolly little cherub, who loved her big sister more than anything. Her mother was dark after her birth, and emerged only when necessary from her bedroom. She was never the same after that, her fragility was shattered.

It was on Mary's eighteenth birthday when she saw her Father's passing, and she tried with all her might to persuade him to stay home, but he'd smile and say "Why, Mary-Bug, the Titanic is the safest boat the world has ever known!" The day he left she cried and cried, but not before she snuck a letter into his briefcase, telling him all the ways she loved him. Her mother, after sometime, became privy to her secrets, and thought she was in league with the Devil, paraded her into church one fine Mississippi morning and pronounced her afflicted. And now, here we are, under the shade of a Maple, and in the last bit of sunlight she will see before I get her out, for good.

I spent all my time with her, playing cards and reading books; my, my, did she love the Iliad and the Odyssey, perhaps it was the Oracle at Delphi! But one day, I was unable to come into work due to a particularly bright day; I thought she wouldn't appreciate my likeness to a prism. The fates were at work that day, and James took up the void left in my absence. He smelled her heady combination of chamomile and baby's breath from miles away, they allowed her to go outside and enjoy the fine summer air, an innocent, fatal miscalculation. He came then, and sampled her scent, vowing to make her his. She told me all of this the next day, and her visions of the death of Nurse Noreen, and my possible demise. She could never see herself clearly, but she sensed the gravity and the danger. She took my hand, and murmured "Damien, I can see at all, I can see how much of a poison I am, Mother was always right. Promise me you will help me. Leave me out there, alone; it will be simple this way. I have a tombstone already. Her laugh was empty, hollow. I met her gaze, and answered with a delicate kiss to her lips, and responded with a vow of my own. "Mary-Alice, by the sun and the moon, I swear you will come out of this unscathed. Our plan to smuggle you out will still happen, and we can have the life we've dreamed of. I love you; I love you a thousand times. You are my soul, and he is just the Reaper! Don't you remember the story of Eurydice and Orpheus? I can get you out of the dark, I swear it." Her hand met mine, and the fingernail's Cynthia had so lovingly painted, fruitlessly tried to embed them into my granite skin. She realized then, I was unyielding on many levels.

_Sometime Later,_

_Gnash, Gnash, Gnash! _James's teeth were snapping around my head and neck, desperately trying to find purchase on my skin. I was overcome with adrenaline and strength then, and was able to rip of his arms that I had been formerly grappling. Mary's screams ricocheted in my mind; I had saved her from the chair, but unleashed something much worse on her. Rendered incapacitated, James roared and roared, but I tried to remain calm and stroked her hands. "Mary, we are going to run now, okay sweetie?" She nodded her affirmation, and I scooped her prone body into my hands, and dashed. Reaching the borderline of Mississippi, I masked her scent, and laid her in an abandoned building. I could feel him returning, I knew my fix wasn't permanent, but I needed the time to prepare myself. With one last kiss from her silky lips, she exposed her neck to me, and lilted, "Damien, baby, I knew when I saw you we were forever. I've seen you're face in mind since I was a child, I suppose my precognition had some positive aspects…it led me to you. I'm prepared to love you until the world turns to ash, no hurry up and bite me!" She laughed then long and loud, and I was amazed by her vitality.

I granted her wish, and ran to meet James before he could find her, with her heart pumping. We circled one another, predator upon predator, but I had the advantage. I had love, and I knew his past. I tormented him with the loving words of his mother, and made lunges to end our feud permanently. But, he outsmarted me. He, too, had acquired a mate, a feral red-head with a knack for knowing exactly my escape route. They bit me, and scratched me, and left me for dead; revenge he cried, revenge for stealing his game.

He knew little of vampires then, he was still a rowdy newborn himself, for he did not burn me, but merely maimed me. I would heal, but not fast enough to greet Mary when she awakened. I was tormented, to know she was in pain and alone, forced into a world she knew little of, and most assuredly, scared. On what would have been her fourth day of transformation, my body healed enough to make the trek back to her, but all that was left was her quickly disappearing smell, and a pool of blood. I fell to my knees, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed. I wondered if she would know to meet me at the family diner, I wondered if she knew me at all, but most all I wondered if she would be the women I loved when I found her.

A/N: So, did anyone see the connection to the earlier chapter! O'Donnell's Diner? I wondered, if you guys would. I'm out on school break now, so I have a lot of free time to write. Feel free to PM me with any ideas, or any offers to BETA! Tell me what you thought! I'll update again soon!

-Felicia XOXO


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